Camino de Santiago
by klswhite
Summary: Set before Entry Wounds, it explains why James didn't complete his pilgrimage. I don't own them, I just clean up the hot mess that was series 8. **This is not a pairing. I don't ship these two. I prefer the friendship between them.


**Camino de Santiago**

**Am I the only one who wanted to know more about James' gap year? How do you make that journey (and it is a long one) and then just turn away from the end? This is how I think it happened.**

**This story is dedicated to Ramblin' Girl. It was after all her idea. I hope I did it justice.**

He stopped at the highest point and looked down into the valley. Dropping his pack onto the ground he took a seat on a nearby rock and lit a cigarette. He was here, the end of an almost four month journey. Less than one kilometer away was his destination, it was a beautiful sight to behold.

Closing his eyes he leaned back, enjoying the mid-day sun. He reflected on the almost 1,600 kilometers he had journeyed by foot. Sleeping in free dormitories along the way, he had walked long distances daily, scrupulously ignoring the vans that he could have ridden in when he was exhausted. When he would reach the point of exhaustion he would spring for a modest hotel. One that didn't smell like sweat and feet.

On those nights he would stand in a hot shower, letting the water pummel his body. He would treat himself to a big meal and indulge in several drinks. Occasionally, one night became two. Once it had become four when a fever sidelined him.

He didn't seek companionship on his walk. If someone spoke to him he would respond. But he never let the conversation get too far. He made it clear that he wasn't open to lingering conversations. A few times when he encountered exceptionally persistent people he continued walking at the end of the day. Passing the communal sleeping quarters and choosing to sleep outdoors in a meadow. Beyond providing him the solitude he craved it gave him a jump start on the next day. It put him a couple of kilometers ahead of those people who had sought his company.

People who knew him probably wouldn't recognize him. He was thinner, leaner. His normally clean shaven face held a long, scraggly beard. Hair that was normally almost buzzed to his scalp was longer with a natural wave running through it.

One last drag on his cigarette then he ground it out on the rock. Looking at the pristine surroundings he placed the butt in a plastic bag in his pack. He was in no hurry to pick up his pack. Letting his mind wander to the course of his journey he tried to discern what he had learned. If he looked back on it now, what had been the point of this? He'd left Oxford disenchanted. He'd lost his mooring, his path in life.

_On the day he'd turned in his resignation she'd smiled knowingly at him, "I won't accept it James."_

_"I'm not really sure you have a choice ma'am."_

_She pushed the piece of paper across the desk to him, "Actually I do. You will take a sabbatical. Six months, unpaid. But at the end, you come back to a job. Take the Inspector's exam move up."_

_Her tone was clipped, resolute. But when he'd looked into her hazel eyes he was overwhelmed at the compassion he saw there, "I can't do this job anymore; it's killing me."_

_"You've had a rough go of it. You need some perspective. Take the time, travel, stay at home and read. Call me in six months and tell me how you feel."_

_He stared at her as she put her glasses back on and went back to work. In her mind the case was closed. He was on leave and had six months._

He smiled at the memory. It was so typically Jean bloody Innocent. She didn't care what he wanted or thought. Take the six months, then call me. She'd been so damned certain. So positive that he would be back at the end of the six months. It would serve her right to know that he wasn't. It would be nice to wipe her nose in it.

He was here, he had completed his journey. He pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a photo. He opened an email and attached the photo. Hitting send he waited a few minutes then found her number and pressed the button to call her.

"James, you do know your six months ends on Friday don't you?"

He smiled, "Yes, I know. Have you checked your email?"

"No, have you sent me another resignation letter?"

"Just open it."

He could hear her clicking on her computer, "It's lovely. Where is it?"

"Camino de Santiago."

Her laughter was a refreshing sound, "St. James's Way. So have you found your way?" He paused, suddenly unsure how to answer the question. "Have you hugged the statue yet?"

He stared at his phone curious how she knew about the tradition, "No, I haven't descended into the valley yet."

"Just admiring the view?"

"No, pausing for a moment to reflect on the journey."

"And while reflecting you thought of me? I'm flattered."

He shook his head, that wasn't the point of this call. He'd called to…why did he call? He was here at the end of his pilgrimage. There should be no thoughts of Oxford, no thoughts of the police force. And yet who was the first person he'd called, his one connection with a job he wanted to leave.

"James, not that it's not a pleasure to speak with you but I have a meeting. Why don't you tell me all about your trip over breakfast on Monday, my treat? The usual place, and for the love of God make sure you are clean shaven. You have your orientation for the Inspector's course starting at noon."

"I won't be there."

"Of course you will be James. You wouldn't have called me if you weren't planning on coming back. Now go hug the statue, complete your journey then get on a plane and come home. I've missed you."

She was gone before he could respond. He put the phone in his pocket and lit one last cigarette. He had come this far another few minutes wouldn't matter. Jean's words lingered in his head, why had he called her. He shook his head, it didn't matter why he had called her. All that mattered was completing the journey.

He ground out his cigarette tucked it into the bag in his pack. Shouldering his pack he started his descent into the valley. His sight was fixed on the cathedral on his destination. The small voice startled him, "Have you found what you were looking for?"

He looked around for the source of the voice. An older man appeared from the surrounding woods and smiled kindly at James, "I am sorry for startling you."

James shook his head, "It's alright."

The man looked at him expectantly. When James didn't say more, he repeated his question, "Have you found what you were looking for?"

James pointed towards the cathedral, "There's my destination, so I guess so."

"It's not about the destination, it's about the journey. Did you find what you were seeking on your journey?"

James walked alongside the man, thinking about his question, "How do I know if I did? I sort of thought the point was the destination."

"For some that may be the case. But I sense with you there might have been more. Why did you take the journey?"

His hand went to his pocket, meaning to reach for his cigarettes. Instead he found his hand on his phone, he stopped, thinking about the inadvertent mistake. "I was lost, I guess I hoped I would find a purpose."

"And are you still lost?"

He turned to look at the man. Was he daft? The cathedral was right there, of course he wasn't lost. There was a countenance of calm that surrounded the man. The fiery look on James' face didn't seem to disturb him in the slightest. Something about the serene smile on his face stopped James. He touched his pocket again, the feel of his phone a beacon, "No, I don't think I am."

"It is good, that you found what you were looking for, that you are no longer lost."

Laughter bubbled out of James, "Not lost, just in the wrong place. I have to go." He dropped into a light jog before stopping and turning to the man. He was no longer on the path, he seemed to have slipped into the woods again, "Thank you, whoever you are."

He waited to see if the man would reappear. When he didn't James turned back to the path and started jogging. The jog became a run. When he made it to the town, he ran right past the cathedral. He didn't even stop to find the statue.

* * *

><p>She took a sip of her tea debating whether or not to order. He was late, probably the surest sign that her plan had failed. She'd been so certain he would return. She'd booked him into the Inspector's course over a month ago.<p>

Shaking her head she motioned to the waitress, "It's rude to order before your guest arrives."

She closed her eyes letting the relief run through her body. Fixing an icy glare on her face she turned to him, "Not when my guest is 15 minutes late. It didn't occur to you to call."

He ran his hand over his clean shaven face as he slipped into the chair across from her, "It took a bit longer than I thought to get rid of the beard."

She appraised his smooth skin and smiled, "Good result."

**A/N: Camino de Santiago (The Way of St. James) is one of the most famous pilgrimages (especially for those of the catholic faith). There are at least four different ways you can take. I opted for a started point of Le Puy for James. This is one of the longest but also the most well-preserved routes. The journey can be done in two month but I decided to let James wander for a bit longer. It's all creative license except for the actual Pilgrimage. That is very real. I have been to the cathedral (although I will admit I didn't hike to get there) and it is spectacular. If you are ever in the area it's well worth the trip.**


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